


Companion to the King

by frogs_of_war



Series: Soldiers, Knights, Wizards, and Kings [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Guards, M/M, Nobility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogs_of_war/pseuds/frogs_of_war
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I thought watching over my prince was enough. It wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Henrik

I don't know when I fell in love with Elnathan. It wasn't when we first met. Back then he was small and pale and weak. The only sign of affection he recognized was being given his own way. His governess was a flighty creature and worried more about keeping him quiet than about raising him well. His mother was long dead and his father distant and added to that was an older half brother who, while much beloved by the people, was not a legitimate heir to the throne. Elnathan was a spoiled brat with all the makings of a horrible king.

But he didn't intimidate me, although I was not much older than his eight years. His will was strong but his heart was bigger than mountains. I became the sun in the winter of his life. He looked to me and learned by my example. This made me proud. I sought to be a better man, a man worthy of his affection.

I am nothing, a no one. My father was a blacksmith who reshod King Branimir's horse, so that the king did not lose a day of hunting. As a reward for his labor I was looked over and pronounced fit and handsome enough to be companion to the prince. Elnathan and I ate, learned, played, did everything together for four years. But the castle is full of intrigue which I ignored until it was too late. I was cast aside in favor of boys that would help the royals politically, but I rose again from the ashes as the night guard to my prince.

I thought that was enough, to know that I loved him, to know he was safe while he slept, to be the last face he saw at night and the one he looked to as he opened his eyes, to be the name on his lips when he spoke in his sleep. I thought it was enough, more than enough, but it wasn't.

I found that out the night King Branimir died. Elnathan was a boy then, just on the cusp of manhood, the time when youths are expected to act like men while still being treated like boys. He did not take kindly to this contradiction. Nor to the servants imposing a valet upon him as though he suddenly couldn't dress himself. Nor being consoled by men that he knew favored his brother.

Men across the country filled rooms with gossip and rumor. Would the council say that despite the law Elnathan was too young to rule? Prince Kanimir was regent to his father; would his regency be extended until Elnathan was twenty or beyond? Would the older prince be legitimized as he had been delegitimized, with the stroke of a pen? At the time, no one knew.

These were all important questions, and but they paled in comparison to the one of what I could do to help my grieving prince. Elnathan wandered about his room in a daze, ignoring his valet and me unless I talked to him. His face spoke of sorrow, pain, and anger. He needed me then, more than he had needed me since that first day we met. I would do all I could for him, I knew this in my heart. I would give my life, my honor for him. I would do what I could, whatever I had to do to bring a smile to his face and ease to his heart.

I sent the valet away and took Elnathan for one last look at his father. The nobles filled the king's chambers, watching as the servants prepared the king for transport to the chapel. No one wanted us there. Some said that Elnathan had had his chance; he had been holding his father's hand when the old man died. I was filled with anger, and in the prince's name, I sent them all away.

Elnathan held his father's hand to his cheek and spoke a few words over it. That was enough. That was all he had wanted. He stood up in a daze and I led him back to his room. This time he allowed the valet to undress him. I searched for Elnathan's favorite nightshirt. The valet tried to give me trouble, as it was not fit for a king, but gave up in the end.

I tucked Elnathan into his bed and stepped into my assigned corner. Elnathan lay so still in the sheets that I feared he had followed his father. I touched his cheek and his fingers clenched around my arm. He needed me, not just as a guard to watch over his room, but as a body to warm his bed. He needed me and I knew what I wanted. I wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to take him in my arms and never let him go.

I gave in too easily to my desires. I was less than half the man I had thought I was.

Elnathan burrowed against my side and sought my skin. After that I was lost in the warmth of his flesh, the smell of his hair, the taste of his mouth and his skin and his seed, the sound of my name on his lips.

I justified my need, my desire, my sin. He slept soundly and deeply. He needed the rest. There hadn't been time to find him a woman, not one I knew he liked. He hadn't said no even once. I gave him what he wanted, what he needed. He had asked for it, hadn't he? Not with words, but with his willing hands and eager body, by relaxing when I spoke of my love, by falling asleep in my arms.

I woke before the sun, dressed us both, and took to my corner, so no one would know.

Of course they did. No one mentioned that Elnathan smelled of me and I of him, but I could read it in the chambermaid's eyes as she looked from me to the bed. The secretary's eyes flicked my way as he woke Elnathan. The valet wrinkled his nose and called for a bath. And that night the sheets had been changed.

I wasn't sure Elnathan was aware of any of this. He spent the day in the council room, listening to men speak of his fate. I learned from my fellow guards that he had not eaten much, so I called for a meal, but he said everything tasted like sand. I had planned not touch him that night, but my desires got the better of me. I said that I could not make love to him if he hadn't eaten properly. He ate. I had no excuse when he called me to his bed.

He was more himself that night, driving me beyond my breaking point with his hands and mouth. I saw in him that night the strong king he would become. The next morning I woke barely in time to dress myself before the chambermaid's appearance. As I watched her sweep the grate and lay down a new fire, I wondered how many people she had told. Was the entire castle whispering about us? Would this be the final straw that snatched the crown from Elnathan's head? Had I destroyed the man I was trying to save?

Two restful nights in a row made sleeping difficult that morning. I tossed and turned until noon, then gave in to my unease. I headed for the practice grounds and worked off my anxiety with sweat. I would be what Elnathan wanted me to be. I could be his lover during the quiet of the night and keep my counsel during the day. If I lost Elnathan the crown, I would still serve him all the days of his life.

Before I took position in his room that night, I heard that he looked much more himself. That he had eaten well and kept track of those around him. And that the council was finally learning of the sharp tongue and quick wit Elnathan possessed.

He called me to him as soon as the door was closed behind the valet. He pulled me into his bed and undressed me, giving no care to where each article of clothing fell. He was my prince, my master. I was but his humble servant. I gave him everything I had and still he demanded more, needed more. I gave and gave and cried in my anguish when I had nothing left to give. He was calm with me, gentle, and I came to understand that he wanted not just what I could give, but for me to have all of him. So, I took. I took everything he offered, everything he had. We were not two beings, but one. One heart, one mind, one soul.

The next morning dawned with me still in his arms. I woke to the chambermaid at the grate. I had ruined him, my love, my prince. Even if she'd kept her mouth shut these last two days, how could this latest juicy worm of gossip not slip out? I waited until she left to roust myself from the blankets. Elnathan woke and watched me as I dressed. I was in no way ready when the secretary appeared. I made my escape as the two discussed the king's funeral.

I was whisked into my bath then pulled and prodded into my best uniform. One of the tailor's assistants lamented not being able to make me a new one for the funeral, but he had made me one for the coronation. He had been up all night working on it. Then he was called away to dress someone more worthy.

I was left to keep myself presentable until I was called up with the rest of Elnathan's guard. From there we escorted the prince into the cathedral. The funeral went on for hours. I was near a wall, so I shifted my weight and subtly stretched to keep from becoming stiff, but poor Elnathan was situated so prominently that I could tell every deep breath he took.

I was among the guards that led the prince into his chambers. He called to me before I could leave with my fellows. I stayed. Once we were alone his poise cracked. He beat his hands against my chest and swore at his father for dying, at his mother for not giving him brothers, at his grandfather for annulling his father's first marriage, at his ancestors for conquering this country, and at God for giving him life. I only stopped him for long enough to remove my jacket so he would not hurt his hands on the silver buttons or fancy braid.

I let Elnathan yell, let him scream his anguish. When he could cry no more, I kissed the last of his tears away and made love to him one last time as my prince.

Before we were ready to part, his rooms filled with servants. I dressed quickly and stood in my corner as he was bathed and brushed, primped and painted, buttoned and tied, and turned from a prince into a king. I was not able to see the complete transformation, for the tailor's assistant found me. I was squeezed and tugged and buttoned and brushed to within an inch of my life. My new uniform was shaped like the old, but black and gold where the other had been green and silver. When I passed the inspection of the tailor, my captain, and at least four other people, I was led back upstairs and presented to Elnathan.

I bowed. He held his face in royal serenity, but his eyes said we would talk. I knew I was in trouble, that I had hurt him in some deep, profound way, but what could I have done? I thought over all I'd done those last few days and my stomach sunk into my knees. I don't remember stepping away from him or following my fellows into the cathedral. The next few hours were a blur of the navy wool of my fellows' jackets, the faces of the audience as I stood by Elnathan's throne, the flash of gold as the crown was lowered on his head, and the roar of the crowd as we made our way back to the castle.

Kingly business occupied Elnathan as soon as we entered the king's chamber, Elnathan's chamber. I was able to slip away to the chapel where I confessed each longing, each need, each touch. The priests were all busy elsewhere. Nothing stood between me and God. I felt that surely He would slay me for my perversion. I bared my heart to Him and waited for His blade to slide in. I expected hate and retribution but all I found in that quiet, little chapel was peace.

Some hours later a page found me. I followed him up to Elnathan's chamber. The king's chamber. His eyes danced when he saw me. I stood straighter knowing he loved me still. He bade me stand by his throne. I complied. Prince Kanimir and his small son were in attendance as was every nobleman and councilor. They had sworn him loyalty, but how many were truly prepared to follow through? Some would try to foist their daughters on him. I would lose him to a queen. I had prepared myself for this in the chapel. I could live, loving him from afar.

He sat straight and true and told those assembled that he would never take a wife. The crown belonged to Kanimir and as he could not simply give it to him he would do the next best thing. Kanimir's son would be Elnathan's heir. A rumble of protest rose up, but Elnathan cut it off with a flick of his hand. Kanimir reassured his brother that he did not want the crown, that he was content as a prince.

Elnathan said that Kanimir had no choice, much like Elnathan. They were what they were born to. As king he would not have a queen but a companion whose heart and loyalty he trusted above all other men. Then he took my hand and held it aloft.

My lungs failed me and my knees buckled. He stood at my side. 'I do not need any other,' he said, 'if I have you.'

I sturdied myself. I could not embarrass him. I forced my lungs to take in air and returned the greetings from my lover's liegemen. I don't remember much, but Elnathan's heir took to me and I held the little one until he fell asleep.  
When I was finally allowed to leave, I was grateful for the valet who helped me out of my clothes and into bed. My king, my lover, my husband joined me not long after. He joined me body and soul. We were one, are one, that night and forever.

Although life is not easy for the companion to the king, it is no more difficult than as night guard or blacksmith's son. Since Elnathan has chosen me of all his people to spend his life with, the lot of men who love men has become easier. Look around. If you are observant, you might notice that you already know a few.


	2. Elnathan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I would lay any plans, do anything to keep Henrik beside me. If only he'd notice.

Henrik is a rock. He is the boulder that sailors grasp during storms. He is the stone I cling to, my foundation. I was a puddle of water before I met him. He is the pitcher that molds me into the perfect shape. Since the day my father brought him home to me I have loved Henrik, loved him with the fierceness and determination that only a neglected child can. I didn't know what love was then. I only knew that without him I was nothing.

He was so much at my side that he was like another limb. It never occurred to me that I might lose him. I could fill your ears with tales of our childhood, but that is not what you ask about. When did I fall in love with Henrik? When did I love him more than just as a friend? When did I love him enough to forsake marriage for him? This is what you want to hear, isn't it? Asking how I fell for him is like asking if you love your arm or feet or head. Henrik is a part of me. He always has been. He always will be.

That sounds conceited, I know, but I am a king, so that is allowed.

This story won't make sense without a little background on the politics. My father eloped with the maid of the princess he was supposed to marry. They were legally wed and lived together, happily by all accounts, not fifteen miles from the capital until Kanimir, my brother, was four. My grandfather's men found my father and persuaded him to come home with the understanding that he could keep his wife and son, but then my grandfather reneged. My father was forced to divorce his wife to keep her alive and do not doubt that my grandfather would have had her killed after dragging her name through the mud.

But what my father didn't realize when he signed the paper was that rather than just cancel his marriage, he had made it so the marriage had never been. He had made his son a bastard.

He was very angry, but with his beloved's safety on the line, he obeyed his father and married again.

You might think that none of that has anything to do with the situation, but you would be wrong. We are all products of our history and our fathers' histories and their fathers'. My father did not love my mother. He could barely tolerate her. She was not old or ugly or mean, by all accounts she was a sweet beauty, but her most glaring fault, the one he could not overlook, was that she was not his beloved.

He wished a son upon her, but all his wishes were for naught. Although he did his monthly duty by her, she could not be got with child. After five years even his wife's most ardent supporters considered Kanimir my father's heir. My brother is well loved by our people. They took to him as one of their own, a boy who had been raised among them. They love him as much as they loved my father, who gave up a kingdom for a woman. 

My people are romantic by nature. They will forgive almost anything if it is done for love. Just listen to our ballads.

Nobles and commoners alike thought that as soon as my ailing grandfather died, my father would bring his first wife back to his side, but that was not to be, for his beloved died scant days before his father. He mourned for four months, one for my grandfather, but three for his beloved. When my father returned to his monthly duties he discovered a wife round with child. She, in her sympathetic way, had kept her secret so that no one would celebrate while her husband mourned.

He forgave her so much on that day and me as well for being born, but he did not proclaim this aloud for he was ashamed of his previous sentiment. Over the next few months my father fell in love with his beautiful bride, but his happiness was not to be for she fell ill within hours of my birth and died just days later.

My father did not seek me out, nor call me to him. He had gotten up in the night when my brother was a babe, but now he was king. He just assumed that my nurse would take me to visit him and when she didn't, he thought that maybe kings did not visit their children. He saw his own father rarely and then only at a distance through much of his childhood. He did not realize that I was being kept from him. His servants thought they were doing him a favor. They thought that he did not want to see me or even hear of me.

When I was eight, my father went hunting and brought a boy back with him. Henrik filled me with awe. He could do anything he put his mind to. One rainy winter he found a hidden staircase which I had walked by a thousand times without noticing. He climbed the tallest tree in the garden just to prove he could. He chased off boys far older than himself to save a kitten. He was the strongest, bravest, truest man I'd ever met. Stronger, braver, and truer than I knew a man could be, which isn't saying nearly enough as I was raised by popinjays and sycophants.

Henrik was the kind of man I wanted to be.

Two of our neighboring countries started to growl at each other. My father, in order to ensure peace, negotiated a fostering system. Suddenly I had several playmates my age and no Henrik. My heart bled for my loss, but I did not shed a tear. I strove to be a boy who Henrik wouldn't be ashamed to call his friend. My head was full of plans to bring him back to my side once I was king.

Through all this I had no one to confide in. My brother was sent away to be fostered. He had been my only way to communicate with my father. I gathered up my courage to face the man who sired me and was welcomed with open arms. He sympathized with my loss and assured me that it wasn't forever, that in order to keep someone by your side sometimes you had to let them go. He told me when Henrik practiced his swordsmanship each day and made sure my secretary left that time unscheduled. He also cleared time each day to talk to me. I was his beloved son even though I was not Kanimir.

My father gave me the choice of having Henrik guard me by day or night. During the day I was surrounded by foster brothers and toadies. I chose night for then we could be alone.

I waited eagerly for our first night together. I played though a hundred fanciful scenarios in my head, but knew that Henrik would do his duty as my guard to his fullest potential. He would not, could not, be my lover yet.

Although that did not keep me from dreaming about him, especially when his scent filled my room.

In order to win my beloved, I needed to do the wooing. I had to make the first move, but I had to make the correct one. Before I could, I had to lay the foundation. I hinted of my attraction in front of my secretary. I whispered his name while the chambermaid was cleaning the grate. I let my eyes brighten and a grin spread across my face when I caught a glimpse of him by day, no matter who I was with.

I put up with my foster brothers' teasing and rumors spread behind hands and even offers from other men. I would have put up with anything to win my beloved. For a while, I felt I was.

Once the groundwork was laid down and my garden fertilized, I was ready to plant the seeds, but in the part of the country where Henrik was raised seventeen is the age of majority. My birthday was still weeks away. I wanted to time this perfectly, to give Henrik no reason, no chance to say no.

My father fell ill. Nothing we tried could cure him and he wasted away. I spent all my waking hours with him while my brother ruled in his stead. We talked as we hadn't talked before and the love I'd always had for my brother bloomed into something deeper, stronger, a bond so sturdy that it would not break no matter which of us ended up as king. Having presided over quarrels of inheritance, I know that this is not always the case.

My hard laid plans for wooing fell to the wayside as my father's health deteriorated, but after my father breathed his last Henrik was at my side being strong for me. I clung to him, my need overcoming thought and when he stood up for me, proving yet again what a great man he was, I fell for him all over again.

When I got him back to my room I demanded his affection. He gave it. He was better than my dreams, better than anything I could imagine because he was real and he wanted me as much as I wanted him.

But things did not run smoothly with us. I woke the next morning as Henrik slipped from my bed. The second morning was no better. He would not stay beside me. No matter what I said, no matter what I did, he thought they were only lover's words and deeds, that they had no meaning in the morning, turning to dust at dawn.

Our third night together I wore him out. I wanted him beside me when I woke and he was. I wanted him to see that no one cared that he shared my bed, that everyone expected him to be there, but again he failed to grasp my intentions. I dressed him in black and gold, the colors of the consorts and heirs. He did not notice.

But everyone else did. And then he embarrassed me by bowing as if he were simply one of my guards.

I love him despite, or maybe because of, his obliviousness. He always speaks from his heart because he never knows what other people want to hear. If he agrees with something I say, I know it is his real opinion. He is a rare treasure for a king.

Anyway, I dressed him as my consort and stationed him just behind my right shoulder at my coronation. I took strength from his presence. Then when I needed him as I took oaths of fidelity, he slipped away. I sent my pages to hunt for him and learned that he was in the chapel. I let him have his time with God. When he came back he could look me in the eye, so I know the time did him good.

I took his hand and declared him to be what everyone already knew he was. I could see his surprise, but I didn't let that hurt me. He genuinely thinks he is not worthy of me. He is one of the few men of my acquaintance who underestimate their value. I have over the years proved my need for him, but his lack of awareness is sweet.

That is probably not an adjective that one would normally associate with a man of Henrik's appearance, but I have found that the biggest, strongest men can be the most gentle. They have nothing to prove.

I had my most trusted liegemen scattered about the room, declaring that anyone who didn't see my announcement coming was blind. My love for Henrik gave me leverage; as I said my people love a good romance. My nephew is my heir. His wife will be queen, which is why I am so careful about who she will be. She must be brave and loyal and strong and beautiful and most of all fertile. In that last category is her only hope to best her predecessors.

Your cousin might just be who I've been looking for.

But to get back to your question, I fell for Henrik as any person falls for another. Like you will fall if you ever give yourself the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> POV - Henrik (HEHN reek)  
> Prince - Elnathan (el nah TAHN),  
> Prince's brother – Kanimir (KAN ih meer)  
> Late King – Branimir (BRAHN eh meer)


End file.
